Do you ever stop to ask why you’re being so nasty to yourself?
“How could you be this stupid?” “This is why no one likes you.” “Your work is terrible; you are terrible.” “You’re a worthless failure.” “What would your parents say if they saw you now?”
The list of negative comments we make toward ourselves is endless. That last one is a doozy and hints at a telling reality.
We often construct our caustic critic by internalizing the criticism, invalidation and shame from those around us, particularly verbally abusive parents and other authority figures. As we develop, we seamlessly adopt their harsh scripts for evaluating the world (and us), mistaking them for our own.
Decades later, those judgmental critics live on, internally, questioning accomplishments and undermining self-esteem. We blow up insignificant and unintentional errors into life-threating misconduct. We extend tiny, common character flaws into evidence of our moral unfitness. We torture and chastise ourselves for failing to meet unrealistic standards of success.
I’ve been a perfectionist since an early age. Reading, especially aloud, was a struggle early in school. Intentionally or not, my deficiency was highlighted by teachers, tutors and family. It stuck, and, ever since, I’ve set impossibly high standards for myself.
Sure, my unhealthy standards may have propelled my career, but at what cost? For years, I hated myself. I was never good enough. Any external validation was suspect. Every accomplishment was a momentary, throw-away trinket of empty praise. Compliments made me cringe.
Perfection is a bad story
The power of our self-critic extends far beyond work or accomplishments, however. If left unchecked, its ruthless invalidation can spread like a virus, undermining every element of our lives from trivial, meaningless exchanges to close relationships and mental health more generally.
The truth is that when we feel worthless, ashamed, depressed or dejected, it’s often of our own creation. Our impossible standards set the stage for this enduring discontent.
Sure, others can be nasty, critical and invalidating too. Sadly, some people use others as a target for their unacknowledged self-hatred. But we listen to their criticism because somewhere deep down we question our own value. We think: Maybe they’re right…
When we’re caught in the self-critique cycle, it’s easy to think that this is just the natural, unquestionable way to be. We think we have to be perfect to project success to the world, to feel worthy, to be a good person, to be loved.
These are nothing more than bad stories. Falsehoods masquerading as certain facts. There is no perfect. It is not a thing. Flaws are the inevitable, unavoidable signature of life. From misfiring neurons to cosmic collisions, we are surrounded by imperfection at every level.
Our internal critic seizes on any anomaly, any disruption of expectations, to point the finger and shift blame inward, convincing ourselves that if we’d just done X, Y or Z, then everything would be right as roses. But the caustic critic is full of shit.
How to add some perspective
Since you, like me, are already primed to critique yourself tirelessly, why don’t you add another question to your repertoire? Every time you’re about to disparage yourself, accomplishments or even failures, first ask yourself:
Would you say that to a stranger?
How about even your own worst enemy? How would it make you feel if you did? Would you feel guilty? Would it make you feel like you were being nasty or unreasonable?
These are simple questions, but don’t make the mistake of discounting them. If you’re honest with yourself, you will realize that you — being the decent human that you are — would never say those things to others. To do so would be socially unacceptable.
So then, why do you say those obnoxious things to yourself?
While this realization isn’t like flipping a light switch, over time and with patience, we can begin to remove the power of our self-critic. If we can learn to question these statements as the negative thoughts that they are, we expose them as irrational cognitive distortions.
Here’s an example: Delivering client presentations was a major part of my former career. If I caught a single typo, particularly while presenting, I would immediately start to beat myself up. I’d tell myself that the client would think I was awful, unprofessional or terrible at my job and ask me off their account.
Is that what I would do if I were the client? Would a single misspelled word lead me to question someone’s professional credibility? Had not the client themselves made multiple typos in a recent email? Wasn’t I just embarrassed?
Hitting pause on my cascade of self-critique and conclusion jumping allowed me to sidestep my emotional reaction, examine evidence to the contrary and reality test my negative automatic thoughts. It’s a powerful technique that is particularly useful during arguments, as we often assume we know the intentions and thoughts of others when we, in fact, do not.
The critic is not all bad
Don’t flog yourself for having flogged yourself. You might not realize it, but our perfectionism and stern self-critiquing are self-defense mechanisms.
Sitting beneath the insatiable desire to be perfect is fear. At our core, we’re all scared creatures, desperate for connection and validation. We’re wired to worry endlessly that we’re not good enough to be loved.
The harsh critic who disapprovingly judges our every action was actually designed to protect our most vulnerable parts.
If I beat myself up first and worse than anyone else could, then I’m not going to be afraid of the nasty things that you or anyone else might have to say about me. If I’m perfect, then you can’t judge me or hurt me with your disapproval.
This kind of rationale may have protected us when we were children, but it’s time to cast it aside. Failures, flaws and imperfections are the spice of life.
